Lay-Z-Boy Docking Station

22 03 2009

I’ve been using it a lot lately, as though it seems. That gnarly cut on my finger has curbed any mountain biking or swimming I could have been doing this past week. The finger is looking really good which releives me, since I didn’t go to the dr (prob should have).

Fucking deep.

Fucking deep.

It may not look like much but believe me when I tell you that it was a solid slice. Almost took off a measureable amount of flesh.

Anyhow. I did my taxes the other night and discovered that I owe this great nation of ours about $750. That SUCKS. Granted, I must have been out of my gourd when I filled out my W-4 for work at Whole Foods which, at the time, was just my part-time job. Boy howdy do I regret that oversight and you can bet your sweet ass that the problem has since been fixed.

It sucks being damn near 30 and dirt poor. I spent my 4 (ahem, 5 1/2) years in college and got my paperwork. Now, I make pizzas at Whole Foods and earned the least amount of money in 2008 since my college days several years ago. Ain’t life grand?

coping mechanism.

coping mechanism.

It’s all good. It’s all a part of the experience, right? Without this path I “chose” I wouldn’t have met the great girl I’m with now. I wouldn’t be looking forward to moving to Washington state to go back to school. I wouldn’t have the rip-roaring pedantic sense of sarcastic humor that has fermented within me over these past few years of gratification-dejection-gratifcation-dejection cycling.

In the most difficult times, often all we have is our sense of humor. And cheap booze.

At work today the store was having a used book sale with proceeds benefitting the Whole Planet Foundation. I perused the selection and got myself a few interesting reads along with a couple of interesting anarchist/conspirist-type documentary dvds. Fifteen bucks will get you five books, three videos, and a soydog. Deal. Done.

Entertainment for the next month.

Entertainment for the next month.

This upcoming week is getting a boost. Beginning with a long uphill road ride tomorrow after work. More running and road riding will ensue until this finger gets to a more resiliant point of recovery and I can risk taking a spill on the trail.

That’s it. It’s about midnight on a Saturday evening and I’m listening to Wu-Tang with dogs snoring and planes flying overhead in the background. I’m calling it.

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Getting Old, I See

2 03 2009

I went OTB on Thurday. It is Monday morning and I still feel like I had my ass kicked by rocks just yesterday. The dogs have enjoyed all the time I’ve been spending around the house. Actually they still just sleep but I’ll wake them up and feed them snacks just for something to do. Been working a little bit on the bike, tweaking the blog (like the new theme?), and putting together a semi-thoughtout training plan for next month’s race.

Sanding rotors in my spare time.

Sanding rotors in my spare time.

Yes that’s a big boy Red Stripe holding my place in Zinn and the Art of Mountain Bike Maintenance. I am by no means a bike mechanic. Hell, I don’t even have a bike stand (which I’m currently in the market for). But one thing I hate more than cheese is paying someone else to fix my shit. So I’ve been taking this opportunity to learn a little more about how my bike works. I’ve also been attending a weekly bike maintenance class at our local co-op…very fun. Anyways, looks like I could use some new brake pads and should probably bleed the brake fluid one of these days. Who knows when that was last done.

Been communicating with my man Rhino about the upcomming race and doing some training rides. He did it last year, 50 miles on a rigid single speed. That requires balls the size of small dogs.

From: Rhino

I don’t mean to sound like Joe Douchebaggery Pro MTBer, but fuck Papago. Fuck those 3-4 hour rides.  You need to be climbing hard steep sustanined shit.  The Whiskey is like 15 miles up hill and 15 miles back down.  The climbing is sustained and never gives up. If you are not ready for some serious climbing you won’t be happy.

I love that guy. I don’t understand why anyone would pay for a coach when bros like this are available for free advice. Guess I should go find some hills to ride up.

This weekend was the Strong Beer Festival in neighboring Mesa, AZ. I didn’t go. I don’t have disposable cash at the moment and if I want a strong beer, I just hit up Papago Brewery and they’ll fill my growler with whatever >8% swill I see fit. Maybe I’m becoming antisocial. Maybe I’m getting old. Probably both.

Cut from the same cloth.

Cut from the same cloth.

That’s my real bro at the beer fest. The unconsenting female he’s grappled, I have no idea. In a way I miss those days of pulling a hundo out of the ATM, getting all sweaty and sunburnt while chugging booze out of a plastic cup, and waking up the next morning with no idea how you got home, how much you spent, or where your cell phone is. I’m not saying that’s what happened to my man over the weekend…but I’d put money down that the story is similar.

Next weekend is some other beer festival that’s much closer to where I live here in Tempe. I’m going to this one but as a volunteer for TBAG. I’ll be valet parking bikes in a secure area for all you who’d rather take your chances cruising home drunk cyclist style rather than drunk motorist style. Good call, y’all.





Object Fixation is a Bitch.

26 02 2009
About to drop in.

About to drop in.

Some days you kick ass, and some days your ass gets kicked. Today was the latter. I’ve been doing quite well on the mountain bike lately and this is from a guy who you can spot in the parking lot, loading the bike back on the rack, bleeding from at least two points on his body…on the regular. Anyways today I was barreling down this hill much faster than I would have been if I had any sense of self-preservation and I see this giant fucking rock right in my line. What do I do? What should I have not done? The answer to these questions is unfortunately the same. STARED AT THE ROCK. It wasn’t there when I rode this trail two days ago, which shouldn’t be a surprise, but for some reason I was mortified by this obstacle and it got the best of me.

It's only a flesh wound.

It's only a flesh wound.

After walking it off, scaring the jackrabbits with a few f-bombs, and doing a quick self-check I hopped back on the bike to continue. This wasn’t going to ruin my ride. Wrong. My seat is all jacked up…even after two seperate adjustments it’s sliding all over the place, tilting towards uncomfortable angles, and the last thing I need (beyond my current injuries) is a taint bruise. Not only that, but my front brake rotor is screaming like a witch at every revolution and my handlebars are no longer lined up with my fork.

That’s enough to send me home early. So now I’m sitting in the lazy boy contemplating which hurts more: my elbow or my leg. No picture of the leg because superficially it looks fine, but I can assure you that I feel like Nancy Kerrigan right about now. That is…until this scotch kicks in.

I’m hoping to go watch my Sun Devils take the PAC-10 by beating the Huskies tonight. That’s the plan but it’s a late game (9pm) and I have to work early (6am) and I know there will be booze involved. I must remember that I’m not 21 anymore. I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean.





Luke Warm Persistance

4 02 2009

I woke up yesterday morning with some severe pain in my right foot/ankle. Pain so bad I had to manipulate my foot to ensure I hadn’t broken anything.  By the end of the day it had slowly eased and today I’m feeling just fine.  It was a little scary. Though I’m not certain what the culprit was I’m wondering if it’s the kicking action while I swim. Not having much swimming experience it’s a relatively new motion for me.  I suppose time will tell.

An evening poolside.

An evening poolside.

I just got back from a nice run; from my house to the start of Saturday’s race and back. It took me just about 20 minutes to get to the starting point, which I’m afraid may be a little too much for a pre-race warm-up. I’m really shooting for a PR here and I don’t want to over extend myself and flop before I hit the finish mat. Instead I think I’ll bike to the race and do a little jog around before it starts.

Right now I’m just sittin’ in the chair, looking at dogs, the dogs are looking at me. It’s time to fix a drink.

…and probably feed the dogs.





the holidays…

26 12 2008

Well the big one is over with.  Hope it was great for you, here, it was just fine.  I went on a bike ride, gave some gifts, gave a couple crappy ones, same was returned upon me, and tried to limit my food and booze intake..quite successfully, actually!

 

looking ahead

looking ahead

So the running is going fairly well, except for the fact that I think I’m experiencing some overuse strain in my calves.  That is, serious, fucking, pain immediately following my runs and general pain/discomfort the rest of the time. I’m not really cramping up or anything like that, it just feels like I’ve got pulled calf muscles.  Is this something compression socks would help with?  I’m considering getting a pair but they’re so damn expensive.

So I’ve taken a couple of days off. I figure that it’s better to accrue a few make-up runs now in the beginning than seriously injure myself and take a forced (and probably much longer) break when something fails. As it stands I’m on nine runs in eleven days.  I’m back into it tomorrow.

What is tomorrow?  My birthday.  More on that later.

 

lookin' back

lookin' back